did i really just do that?

Part of my love-hate relationship with reading and writing is how time-consuming they both are. Especially reading. In fact, college made it so that I have a very small attention span for anything longer than 30 pages. But I figured if I'm ever going to write a novel, I'm going to have to read some. So a month ago or so I started rereading Fear of Flying, which I'd started over a year ago but never finished. (I'm really close now.)

Reading takes so long for me because of how active I am about it. When I write, I write a sentence, then read it over, then edit it, then write another sentence, then read it over, then edit it, then read the two sentences together and edit them, then write a third sentence - if I get a page written in one day it's been a good day. And that's exactly how I read, reading it like I wrote the thing myself, often with little regard for plot or content - just analyzing the language and the rhythm. Which often causes me to have to read a page over and over and over again until I remember to pay attention to what the characters are actually doing and saying.

I'm not usually too bad about it, but just now, on page 321 of a 20th century masterpiece of a novel, I crossed the line. I line-edited someone else's work. The work of a bestselling author. Yeah.

Jong writes, "Randy and Pierre drove me from the airport in the hearse-black, air-conditioned Cadillac which they'd shipped over from the States." Without even realizing what I was doing until it was done, I'd scratched a thin line through the word "which."

That book has been out for over 3o years. The edition I have includes rave reviews from Henry Miller and John Updike. And I'm streaking red ink all over it like I'm in workshop.

And my perfectionism finds yet another evil within itself.

the city is covered in a thick fog. much like myself.

The only good thing about having to be in Arlington at 8:30 in the morning to get your oil changed (aside from the fact that you only ever get any work done when you're sitting waiting for your car somewhere) is that the drive into Virginia allows you to see pretty much everything - the river, all the monuments, everything.

Except all of yesterday morning, the city was covered in a thick blanket of fog. So much so, that I was at the light at Massachusetts and Wisconsin but did not see the National Cathedral right in front of me.

On the way back, I thought the fog would have lifted, but it hadn't. See if you can figure out what this is, taken from my phone:



It looks like an optical illusion, doesn't it? Behind those trees you may be able to make out white brick - that's the Washington Monument. Shooting straight up into a cloud hovering just feet above the ground.

I did get to see this, though, which I saw for the first time about a month ago and absolutely love. I think it's my new favorite piece of the Washington skyline - the Air Force Memorial that was erected just this year. I'm not sure why it was visible through the fog when nothing else was, but it made my morning worthwhile.



I guess I'll get to see everything when I'm driving out of town Sunday, headed home for break, which I'm so excited about. I'd write more now, but I've got to cram in some more knowledge before heading off to my final final. Only three essay questions and seven and a half hours stand between me and a monthlong vacation. :) To all the DC people: I'll miss you a bunch. To all the Florida people: I've been missing you and can't wait to see you.